


Probosciger aterrimus

by dehautdesert



Series: The Third Aspect [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Creepy Undertones, Daemons, Gen, Kid Fic, Reunions, Same-Sex Daemons, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 17:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14549550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dehautdesert/pseuds/dehautdesert
Summary: Meanwhile, in Beleriand, an unexpected reunion occurs - and one young daemon struggles with life without a father.





	1. Procyon lotor

**Author's Note:**

> Not absolutely necessary to read the other parts of this series to understand this, especially if you're familiar with daemon-verse fics, but it helps with head-canon specific to this verse, and some character development.
> 
> Skip to the end for a list of daemons appearing in this part - their forms might not be made entirely explicit in the text. For this verse I decided to have some fun and give the daemons names of mythological characters from our world, some random, some very on-the-nose in terms of symbolism (see both Thingol and Luthien this time around!). The title of each part is the binomial species name of one of the daemons featured in the chapter - in this case, Thingol's.
> 
> Some parts, such as this one, will have more than one chapter, and the title of each chapter will be the binomial species name of one of the daemons featured in that chapter - in this case, Beleg's. Chapter two of this part will be posted tomorrow.

_*~*~*_

 

 

_"... is written that at this time three of the Eldar were chosen as the representatives of their people, and they were Ingwe, Finwe and Elwe, and their daemons were Gabrielle, Gaia and Demeter._

 

_Of Gabrielle little is remembered east of the sea, save that she was in form a bird of great beauty, and it is suggested she may have been much alike to that of Ishmael, Indis' daemon, who was of her close kin._

 

_Gaia, it is known, was a serpent of many rings of black, red and gold, and so synonymous did the name of her elf Finwe become with kingship when later many of his line who became king also bore his name, that when the form of Gaia was seen in true serpents in wilder lands, the people called them 'Kingsnakes'._

 

_Demeter was best known to the elves of Beleriand, and she was also a bird, and of larger size than Gabrielle it seems. For it is said that Finwe would tell his sons, and they their sons, a bedtime tale of how once, when he and Elwe were travelling together (and against the advice of Ingwe), Demeter thought to pick Gaia up within her talons and fly her as high as she could bear so that she might know flight, and it is said later Miriel's Elimelech would also fly Gaia thus above the lands of Aman._

 

_But Demeter was of more striking a colour than Elimelech; the oldest elves remembered how her plumage was the colour that would later be of the morning sky, long before that dawn ever dawned, bright rose and with a great crest that likewise predicted a sunset, red and pink, streaked with gold – called 'cockatoo' by Yavanna though this word was later forgotten in the East, where true birds of this type did not dwell._

 

_And this was so, until… "_

 

*~*~*

 

 

It had rained for two weeks straight on the edge of the forest. What had at first been justified as a boon for the trees and flowers at least now risked being just as harmful to them as to the elves that had to contend with flash-floods and treacherous terrain. Even the great canopy of the forest could not shelter those beneath entirely from the downpour.

 

Esther shook herself on the branch of elm beneath her elf, sending droplets flying, then rubbed the water from her masked eyes with black paws.

 

_What a lovely day!_ she thought brightly.

 

Beleg sighed and leant back against the trunk of the tall tree. _Indeed. Mablung must be having too much fun to be on time,_ he mused.

 

With that in mind he pushed himself up onto the branch and began to climb further up to where he might see better across the canopy, even in this weather. Esther followed him.

 

"Going up to see if you can see him coming?" she asked.

 

"Going up to see how late in the day we are, if I can," he answered.

 

"What, with all the cloud?"

 

She had a point. Still, there were other ways of telling the time even if one could not see the placement of the stars. Birds seemed to keep time intrinsically, some roosting while others were at flight, and if any of them would brave the rain…

 

"Oh, all right," he admitted, as said rain trickled into his hair. "I'm going to see if I can see that fool approaching."

 

"Thought so," said Esther.

 

Indeed, no true bird would have been out in this weather. And even then, over towards the west where he deemed the storm was centred, Beleg saw a great flash of light in the distance that had him shield his eyes.

 

"What was that!?" Esther squeaked.

 

"Lightning, you silly thing!" Beleg called back. "Come on, it's far away now but if the storm moves this way I should like to spend as little time up in a tree as possible!"

 

Esther shuddered. They had, in fact, been struck by lightning once before, and it was not an experience they cared to repeat. Worse even than being struck themselves had been when Lenwe, rushing to Beleg's side, had suffered the same fate – and there had been a moment when his daemon Andromache had glowed as though she might have become light itself before Beleg had crawled to him. Touching his hand, he'd seemed somehow to know what to do by instinct, to push a part of his light against Lenwe's and jolt it, and Lenwe had taken a deep breath and come back to his senses.

 

They had both suffered burns from that encounter. However, Beleg had always been most bothered by the insistence of Lenwe that for a few moments after the lightning had struck he had heard a voice, calling him away – calling him right out of his body, so it had seemed.

 

He had seen neither Lenwe nor Andromache in many winters. They had gone looking, like so many others, for some sign of…

 

The thunder rocked the sky, just as he was about to remember. It had been so long.

 

Beleg sighed again and found himself cresting the tallest branches, the rain now soaking the shoulders of his cloak. He looked out towards the edge of the forest and beyond, peering across the plain. The green of the hills was very dim, what with the stars covered up, and he doubted any torches would have lasted long out there.

 

Esther reached him and climbed up onto his shoulder, head cocked.

 

"Can't see a thing," she complained. "And in all this he's probably been thrown from his horse and broken his foolish neck."

 

"Mm," said Beleg.

 

He continued to look out into the darkness for a few long moments, thinking that the glow of Mablung himself at least should have been apparent if he were near. It was not. He breathed in deeply and rubbed water out of his eyes, just as another flash of light covered the trees and with his eyes closed he missed the brunt of it.

 

Meanwhile Esther shrunk close to his back, paws clamping down.

 

"What was _that!_ " she cried.

 

"Lightning," he said again, groaning. "You can't have forgotten that so soon!"

 

"It came from a different direction to the other flash!" Esther snapped.

 

Beleg frowned and looked out at where the storm seemed strongest, peering hard. "North or south of the centre over there?" he asked.

 

But Esther grabbed a lock of his hair and pulled his head in the opposite direction entirely.

 

"Over there!" she insisted. "Out towards Nan Elmoth, I think!"

 

"Nan Elmoth?"

 

This rain came from a storm out in the west. Why would there be a light coming from the east? And why Nan Elmoth? Few elves ever dared to go to that place.

 

He looked just about as long as he was comfortable with, at the outline of the darker forest just visible to the north-east. He could see it despite the storm since the outline of the trees went up so high against the charcoal clouds – a blacker blur than even the murky background it lay up against.

 

Everything seemed still over there to him. Oddly still, such as was the wont of the place in his, admittedly limited, experience.

 

Then just as he looked away a light of pure silver shook the branches of that outline, and seeing it out of the corner of his eye he turned back at once to see the glow light up each great tree so well he swore he could see the individual leaves glimmer even at so great a distance – and great shadows were cast along the wastes before them, in stripes of blackness that seemed to stretch for miles.

 

"There!" Esther yelled at him, clambering up his back so she was grabbing his head as she gestured, her ringed tail tickling his nose.

 

The silver light wavered, ebbing and flowing, like the beating of a heart, and it seemed to Beleg that whatever its source was it was moving in the trees. The shadows danced.

 

"That… is not lightning," was all he could think to say.

 

His heart beat faster. Such a strange phenomenon he had not seen before, and he had seen much since his eyes first opened and beheld Esther's looking back into him – seen fire wide as lakes sweep over a stretch of forest in the summer, seen a cloud of iridescent butterflies light up the starry sky as they migrated south, never to be seen again, seen the wide edges of the sea over which so many of their kin had gone to seek the land told to them by Elwe and his companions… so long ago…

 

But this light he had not seen the like of, ever. He stood upon one branch and clenched his fists about another, silently, as the great light pulsed again and again, and could think of no reason for its presence, nor what he should do, nor anything at all it seemed.

 

Then the light went out, and he was left gasping at the top of the tree.

 

He blinked, clearing his eyes of the too-brightness and again the rain, and for a long time he watched the dark smudge of Nan Elmoth to see if it would light up again, and Esther with him, until at last he felt compelled to remind his eyes that other things existed in the world, and looked out towards the south again.

 

There, for a moment, he saw even less than before – his eyes still imprinted with the light of silver. But a moment later the real lightning flashed again and lit up the grassy plain, and he saw two riders approaching the tree line.

 

"Look," he said hoarsely; cleared his throat and went on, "two riders. One must be Mablung."

 

"But what about that light?"

 

As if he'd know anything more than his own daemon! He rolled his eyes and searched for something to say, eventually settling on –

 

"Well, maybe _he_ knows something about it? We cannot miss meeting him after so long apart now, with the way the people have fractured we'd risk never running into him again!"

 

"We would _too_ see them again!" Esther huffed. "Even if it took a long time…"

 

"Not if the Hunter got him," Beleg reminded her.

 

She shuddered.

 

Common wisdom was these days that what had once simply been known as 'the Hunter' was in fact the 'Vala', known as Orome. But Beleg and Esther had been there at the beginning; they knew there was a 'Hunter' out there, one who had taken elves and their daemons that were never seen again. Even if he had been quiet for many, many winters now, he had not heard the Hunter had been vanquished, and Elwe had to have gone somewhere, all those seasons past.

 

Esther came down his back again; nudged his shoulder with a little whine. _The Hunter won't get you and me, or either of them!_ she thought fiercely.

 

_Not if I get him first_ , Beleg agreed, patting the bow slung over his back. _Come, let's go meet them, and ask if they know aught about the light._

 

The next crack of thunder was far more distant-sounding.

 

They descended through the branches level by level, taking care the slipperiness of the rain didn't catch them out – for they'd have been fools indeed if they'd ended up falling out of a tree, with their experience. Soon they were on solid ground again, and near as they had been to the forest's end it was not long before they were out beneath the open sky again, and all the water it had still stored it seemed was poured upon their heads.

 

Beleg cringed, and Esther copied him.

 

Yet this last effort of the rainstorm did not last long. Less than half a minute in fact, Beleg would have guessed, before he was remarking with surprise –

 

"It looks like it's clearing up."

 

They heard another thunderous roll from the west, but now it was barely there at all. Moments later, there was little more water in the air than a wet mist.

 

"… that was quick," Esther said, equally confused.

 

Above them, the clouds were parting, rapidly, and it may have just been Beleg's imagination but he thought the near-black blue to be lighter than he had ever seen it before when it was uncovered. He walked slowly as he looked for the next few steps, observing the emerging stars curiously.

 

_Grey,_ he thought. _The sky is greyer than before._

 

_Or more silver_ , suggested Esther. She stopped where she was for a little while, on her hind legs, but they both moved on as soon as they heard the call of a bird upon the so abruptly clear winds.

 

"That's not Camilla's voice," said Esther.

 

Indeed it wasn't. But they had seen two riders, and now Beleg saw two birds flying their way. One made him blink in surprise.

 

"It's Chandi!" he said, with no small delight. "We've not heard from their people in so long I'd thought they might have followed Olwe over the sea."

 

They hurried thence towards the birds. "More fool you," said Esther. "I mean, Chandi's people? I'm surprised they came this far west at all!"

 

"Ho!" Beleg cried out, waving his arm. "Down here!"

 

The daemons arrived a little ahead of their elves. Camilla was Mablung's, the smallest of the now three daemons present; a bird green in colour, with strange yellow rings around her eyes and a long, curved bill; Beleg had not seen another bird like her in the wild – nor Mablung, last he'd seen him, so they had no name for her form.

 

Chandi was a sparrowhawk, swift and noble in bearing, and she flew ahead of Camilla and landed first, with golden eyes gleaming in the starlight.

 

"Well met, Esther," she greeted boldly – normally an elf would greet before a daemon, but not always. "Beleg Strong-bow. Good to see you were not washed away."

 

"Well met indeed," Beleg greeted with a laugh.

 

The horses neared then, with Mablung calling out, "Beleg!" and bringing his mount to bear beside his companion.

 

"Mablung!" Beleg called back. "Where did you dig up this sorry pair!?"

 

Mablung laughed. "On the other side of the mountains, believe it or not. They bring news from some of the people who are settled there."

 

The second rider dismounted and Beleg approached him with a grin.

 

"Oropher!" he cried. "It has been too long!"

 

"Beleg," said Oropher in turn. "It is good to see you well. With the lightning storm out there I feared for you in particular."

 

So he was not the only one thinking of that time the lightning had got him.

 

"Were you there that day?" Beleg asked, surprised. He tried to recall, but much of that unfortunate episode was a blur, and he only remembered Mablung himself, and Denethor and his daemon crying and having to be held back by his mother. The boy must have been full-grown now, he thought.

 

Mablung snorted. "You don't remember?"

 

"Well, I _was_ struck by lightning."

 

Camilla flew to Mablung's shoulder to mirror his expression – as well as a bird could. "It explains a lot about the two of you," she said.

 

"Oi!" exclaimed Esther. She ran up the length of Beleg's back. " _I_ didn't get struck by lightning, only this fool!"

 

"Well, never mind that now," said Beleg; hastily – Camilla and Esther had been known to engage in banter for hours while their elves sat silently, and he wanted to ask the two riders – "Esther and I saw something strange only a moment before we saw you – a light in the east towards Nan Elmoth. Did you see it?"

 

Both elves frowned – looked at each other and then to their daemons. Chandi returned to Oropher's arm.

 

"I caught a glimpse of something out that way," she said. "Was it not lightning?"

 

"Nay," said Beleg. "The storm was in the west, and more than that this light looked not like lightning, but rather something I have no name for. Like something that has not been before."

 

The expressions on Mablung and Oropher's faces became graver. "What do you mean?" the former asked. "A forest fire?"

 

"No fire," said Beleg. "Nor lightning, nor starlight, nor the light of any creature or flower; 'twas too bright, and the way it lasted was not like a fire, nor was it an orange light, but… silver."

 

"A great silver light?" Mablung repeated.

 

When he said it like that, out loud and with those words, a distant memory suddenly sprung up in Beleg's mind, and he wondered if Mablung thought of it too.

 

_"Light unmatched like a hundred thousand stars, in silver and gold, in each branch, each leaf, each flower… I cannot find the words to say it right…"_

 

Elwe had been uncharacteristically excited, bright as those trees he claimed to have seen, glowing, and Demeter's rosy feathers had shone in such a way they could have seen her beneath the blackest skies, or in the darkest forests. So they had thought.

 

Her bold crest that had once been as a beacon to their people had not been glimpsed through any branch in hundreds of seasons past. _The Hunter's work_ , Esther thought. _She shone too brightly for him to miss her._

 

_Don't think like that,_ Beleg told her, but it had been so long the scolding was half-hearted.

 

Even so, since Oropher was here…

 

"Have you…?" he asked.

 

Oropher shook his head. It was as much of an answer as was needed.

 

"There are now many others that have not been seen in vast movements of the stars," he said. "We hear Cirdan lives on the very edge of the land, but Elmo we have heard naught of, and Lenwe and his people also, and now even Eol and Lilith have not shown hide nor hair for over a generation. I thought I might come west and see if some of them, at least were not to be found here or in sight of – "

 

"There!" cried Chandi.

 

All six of them turned back towards the east, and Nan Elmoth was not in sight because the nearer line of trees blocked it from where they stood, but they could still see over the tops of them where the sky was lit up like a star itself had been printed on the ground beneath the distant trees. The horses both startled and drew back, and Mablung rushed to ease their worries, but Oropher remained staring.

 

"That is definitely not lightning!" called Camilla.

 

"No, nor a fire neither," said Oropher. "But we should see what it is and fast, before we are too late."

 

Mablung turned to him with a frown, though only for a brief moment before the light drew his eyes back. "You think it's safe?"

 

"If it isn’t then people ought to be warned of it," said Oropher.

 

"Aye," said Chandi. "We should ride forth with all haste. An extra elf will not burden either of _these_ horses with their weight."

 

Beleg blinked. "I don't think – "

 

"We'll ride ahead!" Oropher assured him, and leapt back onto his own horse. Both mounts had an unusual build, and Beleg realised they must have been bred specially by Oropher's own people, hence Chandi's surety regarding them. She followed and then passed her elf forthwith.

 

Esther sighed.

 

"Well, _they_ haven't changed."

 

"I suppose that means we'll be following him," said Mablung.

 

There was no space for disagreement, and Beleg would not have, only something about that light had drawn a shadow over his heart and he didn't understand why. It wasn't that he felt danger lay ahead, or not that it was something dangerous to them, yet there was a power in that light he did not know.

 

However, Oropher was right in that they all had a duty to their kin in seeing what this light was, and certainly he and Mablung could not let Oropher ride into it alone. He climbed up behind Mablung on the second horse – Esther clinging – and let Camilla's keen eyes lead them on after their friend.

 

He did not ride at full speed until they had caught up, for Oropher was bold, but not thoughtless, and after they came around the wide edge of the forest that had blocked Nan Elmoth from view Beleg saw again a glimpse of that which he had seen before – the great silver light casting stripes that almost reached them in their length. His eyes watered.

 

At first the horses were frightened to go ahead, but the elves soothed them; Beleg especially had the gift of this. A few miles were between them and those giant trees – the light faded long before they reached it.

 

After a brief discussion they pressed on, deciding that if Esther's first glimpse had been of the same light then this strange thing had now appeared three times, and was therefore like to appear again. And appear again it did, and seven more flashes, each longer than the last, lightened the sky until at one point it almost seemed the same blue as forget-me-nots.

 

(That flower in particular, since it was Mablung's favourite and he made the comparison out loud as soon as he saw it)

 

As they rode, Beleg's anticipation of something astounding grew. He had no clue how this might happen, only that he did not think it was the Hunter, but he kept a hand on the bone knife at his side and remembered always the quiver on his back. Something was about to happen.

 

_Something great_ , thought Esther.

 

And it did not escape his notice, that the first three times they saw the light flare up their horses became increasingly agitated… yet after that, somehow, they slowed down at each shimmer not with fright but with pacification.

 

Then, finally, the three riders and their daemons reached the border of Nan Elmoth.

 

There was a strong breeze within the forest that shook the great trees as the light came a final time. Beleg stood awed beneath the shadows of their massive trunks and watched the leaves a-flurry, like snowflakes in a blizzard, in their whiteness. He dismounted.

 

"There is something moving, in the forest!" cried Mablung.

 

He and Oropher had bows of their own, which each of them pulled as soon as their boots were back on the ground, but Beleg hesitated to draw his even though he admitted he too was afraid.

 

Chandi and Camilla both flew toward the threshold of the place, but did not enter the forest, and instead came back to rest upon the shoulders of their elves. Esther held tight to Beleg's likewise.

 

"He's right," said Chandi. "There is something moving – but no monster; I do not think it is any bigger than a person!"

 

"You think someone might be inside the forest?" Oropher asked her. "Are they all right?!"

 

"I only saw a glimpse of shadow," said the sparrowhawk. "I can tell you nothing more."

 

"Perhaps we should go further in," said Mablung, though he sounded as though he might wish to do anything but.

 

However, that was when Beleg saw the figure too.

 

"There!" he cried, and pointed. Esther lunged forward to get a closer look, even as the light began to tire their eyes beyond what either could bear for much longer.

 

_What madness is this!?_ he wondered.

 

The shadow ahead moved – walked, Chandi was right, it was like a person, and Mablung tried to say something but there was a noise, or a lack of noise, such as Beleg had no words for, that seemed to silence his voice in every alternating moment. The noise was like a whine that became higher, then lower, then higher again, and then –

 

_Be not afraid. Be not afraid. The people in the world beyond – you know them. Remember now, my love._

 

A voice. The noise was like a voice! And now the light began to fade, and what he'd thought was the shadow of a person in the light seemed now to be the source of the light, and now a person again.

 

_An elleth_ , thought Beleg; she wore a gown. And suddenly the song of nightingales was in the air.

 

Both he and his companions were silent; could say nothing, could think of nothing, but they stared at this strange apparition.

 

Towards them she walked, from between trees turned black by her light, her raven hair floating as though she moved under water – the nightingales' song distorted in the same way. Her face was gentle, yet marvellous, and her eyes were like the sky and teemed with stars.

 

She had no daemon. Beleg could tell this as soon as the light had faded enough for them to make her out.

 

_Not an elleth_ , he thought then. _Not an elleth at all. So what…_

 

His knees shook a little. In his head he still heard the echo of the un-noise, as she stared at him and each of his companions for long moments. Beleg could barely breathe.

 

Then she smiled.

 

"Come, my love," she said to the forest behind her. "Let us show her the beauty of the stars. Your friends are here to greet you."

 

A second figure, bundle in arms, near-glided from the shadows behind the entity of light, and Beleg and the others saw him and were amazed.

 

Elwe.

 

_It was Elwe!_

 

It seemed impossible, yet there he was!

 

Suddenly Esther let out a cry, and Beleg realised he had been so stupefied he'd just about forgotten his own daemon was clinging to his shoulder, and that made him peer at Elwe, thinking he would confirm whether it was truly him or not by sight of Demeter, and her bright feathers of pure, rosy…

 

Black.

 

There was a daemon on this second figure's shoulder, a great, crested bird like Demeter, but she was black as coal dust – and she was Demeter, Elwe's daemon, and he was Elwe; there was no doubt in Beleg's heart. He gave into the instinct in his knee and dropped to it, and his sore eyes brimmed with tears.

 

"… my king," he whispered.

 

Esther stuttered, staring at the great black bird, whose cheeks were red as poppies. "D-Demeter?" She too knew, in her heart, that it was her – however black her plumage.

 

Mablung dropped down next to him, on both knees, staring is disbelief and then in uncontrollable belief. Only Oropher remained standing, and somehow took a step forward, though Beleg could hear him struggling to breathe.

 

"Elwe?" Oropher choked out. "Lord Elwe, can what I see before me be true!?"

 

Elwe shone too – not as much as the… other person, but he shone; and his hair that had always been one of the lightest shades of any elf's now was almost white, and dazzling, and he seemed greatly taller than before, and his eyes had each of them a star within their circles, and his cloak was grey, and like gossamer, and like Demeter on his shoulder he was himself…

 

… but changed.

 

These unfamiliar eyes swept over them, gentle-seeming at first, but then Beleg looked harder and thought he saw great power in his gaze. Elwe passed the two kneeling elves then came to Oropher, who had addressed him.

 

"… Oropher," he said softly, slowly, like he was trying to speak a word he'd never said before. Then he looked to his daemon-less companion and, smiling, she nodded, as though in assent. Then he smiled too. "I know thee. You are Oropher." He looked to the other elf's shoulder. "And Chandi."

 

He reached out, and there was a terrible moment of nothingness where Beleg was somehow certain Elwe was about to lean forward and touch Chandi – but he did not, of course, only gestured towards them. He breathed a sigh of relief.

 

"My king," he said again, no louder than before. "Can it really be you? We had all but lost hope…"

 

Elwe turned his gaze on him; seeming like something out of a dream he tilted his head slightly like he didn't recognise him and yet didn't want to say so.

 

Demeter was all but completely still.

 

"Beleg," Elwe said at last. His eyes seemed to become more focused, switching from him to Mablung. "… and Mablung. Together as always." He paused. "Esther and Camilla too."

 

"My king," said Mablung. It was almost a sob, and he could say no more.

 

How could he? It was Elwe. Elwe who had been their friend, and king; who they had loved. Elwe who had simply vanished one day as though he'd never existed, leaving thousands lost. Now just as suddenly as he had gone, he was here.

 

It was him. It was different, and it was him. And Demeter – no longer the colour she had once been, yet Demeter.

 

" _He is returned to you now_."

 

To hear the unearthly voice of the being that was not an elf speak shocked the three, and each looked to her but could not bear to look long before laying eyes once again on their king, their friend, who had been gone so long they still could not believe it entirely, even as their hearts ached to do so.

 

She spoke again. " _Look no more for your king, brave ones. He is returned. I beg your pardon for keeping him away so long_."

 

She had… but how? Why? What _was_ this creature – !?

 

"My lady," Mablung said, though it was hard for him. "For returning to us our king you would have our gratitude eternal… but we do not understand. Who are you?"

 

The being before them smiled.

 

" _I am Melian_ ," she said plainly. " _I am what you would call one of the Maiar_."

 

That explained why she had no daemon, Beleg thought, but he was not exactly soothed. He had little knowledge of the Ainur, had thought they all dwelt across the sea. He still did not yet understand what was happening.

 

Then Elwe said, "She is my wife," and they all stared as hard as they had done when first he'd appeared. Oropher tried to repeat the word, but failed, opening and closing his mouth dumbly.

 

And then Elwe proffered forth the bundle in his other arm, wrapped in the same fabric as his cloak, perhaps in a fold even, of that great cloak, and Beleg saw there was a child within it, staring out at them.

 

And when her eyes met his, his heart almost stopped.

 

Like being struck by lightning.

 

"… and this is our daughter, Luthien."

 

For a long time the elves were speechless, as were their daemons. They stared long and hard.

 

Then, at long last, Demeter spoke. "And David," she said. "My son."

 

There was a fledgling daemon nestled against the babe's chest. Against Beleg's shoulder, Esther's heart beat more rapidly than he had ever felt it before, and he almost thought that it and he might burst.

 

Melian looked upon Elwe again, with the fondness of a mother looking at a child, (that look must have been for this 'Luthien', Beleg decided), and she said –

 

" _Come, beloved. The stars await, and so too do your people._ "

 

Elwe stepped out from beneath the shadow of the trees, passed Beleg without a word and came out onto the open plain. Beleg's eyes followed him, and the widening of the babe's as she beheld the sky above them. Oropher finally could not hold himself up anymore and collapsed, sobbing, and Beleg found himself reaching out toward the train of the long mantle trailing from Elwe's shoulders and grasped a hold of it so he could reassure himself that it was more than just a vision.

 

"My king…" he whispered again.

 

Elwe did not answer. His cloak was cool to the touch, and like no material Beleg had ever felt before. Demeter was a black outline against the sky, a space devoid of stars.

 

The song of the nightingales was suddenly deafening.

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

Daemons introduced in this chapter include those of:

 

Beleg:                   Esther, a common raccoon

Mablung:             Camilla, a spectacled spiderhunter

Oropher:             Chandi, a Eurasian sparrowhawk

Thingol:                                Demeter, a palm cockatoo – once a Major Mitchell's cockatoo

Luthien:               David, whose form will be revealed in the next chapter

Ingwe:                  Gabrielle, (not made explicit in the text, but she's a shining sunbeam hummingbird)

Lenwe:                 Andromache, (not made explicit in the text, but she's a chestnut-backed chickadee)

Eol:                         Lilith, (not made explicit in the text, but she'll show up later…)

 

 

*~*~*


	2. Menura novaehollandiae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Binomial species name forming the chapter title today belongs to the form of Luthien's daemon, David.
> 
> ... that's about the only interesting thing I have to say. Enjoy!

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

 

Elwe, who would become known as Elu Thingol, with his daemon Demeter, had been found.

 

Within only a few days of that he became more like himself again, and less like a dream – and Demeter also, though both it seemed were more stern than before. Wiser too, it was said, and stronger, for uniting with the Maia Melian had changed both elf and daemon, in ways both great and small. Great, of course, was seen at the change in their very appearance, but smaller things were noticed – such as Elwe's penchant for colours he had not favoured before. Yet it was the physical transformation that his people marvelled most at, and with the light that now shone from their very skin no elf or daemon who saw them could imagine that that change had been to their detriment.

 

No, the wife of Thingol had truly made him greater than before.

 

And of course, all who laid eyes upon his daughter fell in love with her a little, for she was the most beautiful child and later most beautiful elf or member of any other race that ever was.

 

Indeed, perhaps in the secret hearts of some they would have had it otherwise, for Thingol guarded her ferociously, and when she was away from him there were times he almost seemed… erratic. Once, even long before the dawn of Man, Beleg would see Demeter tear a beakful of her own feathers out when told Luthien was dancing in parts unknown.

 

But such things were not spoken of thereafter.

 

Luthien's daemon, David, grew more slowly than daemons on that side of the sea were wont to, and still could not fly when Luthien reached her seventh year. He was not a bird of wondrous colour – being of ashy plumage and brownish wing – but sound, rather than sight, was his specialty. Even at that young age he could already copy the voice of any elf, daemon or true bird in such a way that none could tell the difference.

 

His tail was extraordinary, feathers of different patterns curling out almost like a living mix of feathered grasses, but only elves who had known the birthplace of their race could say they had seen his like in the wild, for there alone did such birds live, unless they also existed across the sea.

 

Yet, it was not the lack of birds of David's like that perturbed the young Princess Luthien and her daemon.

 

"She does not understand."

 

It was not the first time such words had left the lips of Elu Thingol's daughter. Luthien looked out into the small pond beneath the root she sat on and watched the damselflies flit from place to place. And she sighed. One of the nightingales flew to her side curiously.

 

"It's all right," she told it. "The other girls only don't understand because their mothers are not a 'Maia', but my mother is."

 

The nightingale, she fancied, understood this. Somehow.

 

David was at her other side, and he peered at the nightingale with orbs like ink, then looked back at her.

 

"Do you think Mother-Father could _make_ a daemon though, so I could have a father too? Then the others will not be so confused, and Mother-Father would be happier too, for she would not be alone."

 

Luthien shrugged. "Mother is not lonely," she said. This, she knew, was true. "She is one and whole as one. Like the Naugrim."

 

"Mother-Father is _not_ like the Naugrim."

 

"Silly. She does not look like one. But she is whole, like they are."

 

"Still. It's not fair that I should not have a father, yet all the other daemons do."

 

" _Mother_ is your father," said Luthien. She thought it odd, to be sure, that her own daemon didn't understand this, but sometimes things in life were strange and she knew this even at the age of seven – for her mother was of the Maiar, and so was half herself.

 

And perhaps that was the part of herself that was not David.

 

"I suppose," said David.

 

"You even call her 'mother-father'. All the other daemons call their elf's mother by their name."

 

"Mm."

 

He was not convinced, she could tell – and it was hard to hear your daemon so uncertain, and to feel the echo of that uncertainty in your own heart. Luthien patted his head and forced herself to smile.

 

"I know it's strange, David. But everything is all right."

 

"Araniel said you need a mother and a father to make a child though. She said she didn't think we were real children. I know we're here now, Luthien," he jumped up onto her lap, "but what if one day we don't exist, or I don't exist, because I haven't got a father?"

 

_What if one day we don't exist… ?_

 

Luthien did not understand, and did not think David really understood either, he was only afraid because of what Araniel had said. Araniel who, like all the other girls, had a Mother-and-father, and not simply a Mother, who was a Maia. Who was not an elf. Who was not like anyone else.

 

Another nightingale landed on a lower branch of the tree above them. They tended to gather around her if she stayed on her own too long, for Mother would that she were always safe – for Father worried so.

 

"Don't be sad, David," she said. "Mother Melian loves us both very much. She'd never let us not exist anymore."

 

"What's this about you not existing, Princess?"

 

Startled, Luthien looked up at the second nightingale, and only then did she realise that it was not in fact a nightingale, but a daemon, and one she knew well.

 

"Niobe!" she said brightly. "I thought you were with the adults!"

 

"Daeron and I don't want to learn to hunt with the adults," she said. "Hunting isn't very nice."

 

Luthien looked around for Daeron, who was ten or so winters older than her, and he was drawing funny lines on a wax tablet and hadn't seemed to even notice she was there. She jumped up with David in her arms and ran to him.

 

"Daeron!" she called.

 

He turned his head. "Oh, Luthien," he said, dismissively. Being one of the older boys, he of course had no time for younger children, especially girls. "I didn't know you were here."

 

"We were playing," she told him. "But not with the other girls. We didn't like any of their games today."

 

It wasn't the whole truth, truth be told, but Daeron didn't seem to notice. He just said, "Hn," and flipped his stylus over to scratch out the mark he'd made.

 

To engage him, Luthien decided to tell him what had just happened – thinking it very funny.

 

"Do you know what, Daeron? I just saw Niobe come to the branch there – " she pointed, "But I didn't say hello to her, because I thought she was a real nightingale!"

 

She burst out laughing, looking at the silver-lit floor of the forest, but Daeron didn't even smile, so in a moment she was pouting.

 

"I'm making new drawings," he told her. "They should probably have a name, but I don't know them yet. Anyway, it's a kind of way to show something is yours, except without having to draw a whole picture."

 

He showed her a mark he made on his tablet. It was a short straight line, with two crooked lines on either side, a little like wings. She frowned.

 

"It's a line with wings?" she said.

 

He rolled his eyes. "It's a bird. See, it's much faster to just do these lines, which you can do in two strokes, than draw the whole picture. And some people can't draw very well anyway, but anyone can do this."

 

"But how would you know what bird it was supposed to be?"

 

Daeron clicked his tongue a groaned. "I haven't thought of that part yet."

 

"You should though," said Luthien sombrely. "Lots of people have bird daemons."

 

"Yes, well they're making me look after Celeborn since I won't go hunting, and he keeps wandering off and being a nuisance."

 

He jerked his head over to where Celeborn, Luthien's cousin who was a few summers younger than her, was standing behind another nearby tree, chewing on the tail of his favourite wooden snake toy.

 

"Hello, Celeborn!" she said.

 

The younger elf turned his head away, face reddening. "Hello."

 

Niobe then flew from the tree to Daeron's shoulder, sang a little, and then said –

 

"Why don't _you_ go play with Celeborn, Luthien? You're closer in age."

 

Her elf's eyes brightened. "Yes," he said. "That's a good idea. You two do that – just don't go too far away or fall in the pond or something."

 

Not that they'd said they _would_ play with Celeborn, but Luthien honestly didn't mind doing so, for Celeborn was not as boisterous as some of the other boys and when they'd played in the past he'd always been content to let her take the lead. Plus Daeron was being grumpy, and it might have cheered him up a little to have someone else watch the baby.

 

"Will you finish your new drawings by the time the adults get back?" she asked.

 

"I hope so," he said. Then something seemed to occur to him, and he frowned. "Say, the king isn't looking for you, is he? I don't want to get into trouble, if you're not supposed to be out here on your own."

 

Luthien shook her head. "He is doing important things," she said. "He and Mother want the Naugrim to make a special house for all of us to live in. But it will have to be a very big house, so it will take a long time to make. And I was meant to be playing with the other girls…"

 

"But they think we don't properly exist," David piped up. "Because I haven't got a father."

 

Daeron frowned. "Of course you don't have a father," he said, like they were stupid. "Queen Melian is a Maia, so she doesn't have a daemon."

 

"But _you're_ the same as all the rest of them," said Niobe. "Or same enough, anyway."

 

Same enough. Luthien wondered sometimes.

 

Wondered if Araniel or any of the others could see some of the things she could. Knew she couldn't, really, because otherwise Mother Melian would never have said _'do not speak of what you see between elves and their daemons, my daughter'._

 

Luthien knew what she meant, and never spoke of the golden thread.

 

But she saw it. Between every elf and their daemon she saw the thread, gold like firelight and starlight blended into one, a single, unbroken line between the heart of one to the heart of the other – thinner the further away from each other they were, she had mistaken that between Daeron and Niobe just now for a ray of starlight – but ever present.

 

This was not something that should be spoken of, she thought, and not only because her mother said so. She held David closer when she thought of such things.

 

_Is it because I don't have a father?_ she heard him wonder.

 

Then all of a sudden there was a tugging at her sleeve. She turned to see Celeborn at her side looking up at her with sad grey eyes.

 

"Are you sad, Lucien?" her little cousin asked her. He didn't always remember how to pronounce 'th' yet.

 

Luthien took a deep breath. "I suppose a little," she admitted.

 

"If you are sad…" said Celeborn, "… then let's play families."

 

Luthien frowned and cocked her head. "Families?"

 

"You'll be the Nana, and I the Ada, and this will be our baby – " he proffered forth the wooden snake, which was made with several hinges fitted together and swayed from side to side with a click-click-click noise.

 

_Our baby?_ Luthien was not sure she wanted to pretend a wooden snake was her baby, however earnestly Celeborn was looking at her.

 

But then he added –

 

"The others will never play families with me, because they say the daemon needs a Nana and Ada too, and a girl's daemon can be an Ada, but Ulysses can't be a Nana because he is a boy."

 

Luthien thought about this and realised for the first time that if Celeborn got married when he grew up, and had children, those children's daemons would not have a mother, because as he'd said: Celeborn's daemon was a boy.

 

Luthien did not understand this; all the other boys she knew had girl daemons, and all the girls boys, like her own David, yet Celeborn was different somehow – or Ulysses was, or both of them.

 

Ulysses was not immediately visible when she looked at the younger boy, but she followed the shimmering golden line that came from Celeborn's chest down to his side and spotted the daemon's little head after a few moments, peeking over the top of a pocket in Celeborn's soft green cloak. He was a lizard; rare in itself among daemons, mottled silver and brown in complex patterns, so that on some trees with lighter-coloured bark he might look almost invisible. On his throat was a bright yellow flap, and under his arms two yellow wings, which did not fly – but allowed him to leap over great distances so that he almost seemed to do so.

 

Or great so far as Ulysses might see it, Luthien thought. He was a very _small_ lizard.

 

_Very strange_ , thought David.

 

_Yes,_ she told him. _But if Ulysses has children I suppose they will have two fathers instead of just one._

 

David considered this. _If that's possible. But_ _I think I would prefer two mothers than just one with no father to accompany her. Do you suppose my mother is lonely, without a husband daemon?_

 

Luthien sighed. _Mother Melian is her husband. Or her wife_. She thought about it a little more, _… I am not sure. But we will ask when we see her at dinner_.

 

_Don't ask_ , David thought. _Mother Melian is scary_.

 

_Don't be silly_ , Luthien returned, though she did not deny it. _Even if she is, we cannot hide our hearts from her_.

 

" – please, Lucien," said Celeborn, interrupting her exchange with David: and his forehead rested against her arm. "I promise I will take good care of the baby. I really promise."

 

Unable to resist, the young Princess' hand reached over to stroke her little cousin's silver-blond hair.

 

"All right," she said. "We'll play."

 

Celeborn jumped up and down and cried out with joy, then grabbed Luthien by the hand and pulled her over to the hollow of roots he had been standing by before, to use as the wooden snake-baby's cradle.

 

David glanced up at her just as she was putting him back on the ground. He knew she considered the matter settled, and in a way it was for he could not deny there was nothing to be done about Mother Melian being scary – yet his heart remained uneasy, and he wondered why his mother had agreed with her elf that it was a good idea to marry a Lady with no daemon.

 

Not that he did not love Melian with all his heart. But there was something not at rest within him, a knowledge that he and Luthien were not the same as other elves and daemons, and the stirrings of a notion that the place of those others may not be his and Luthien's place.

 

For now though, he was at least comforted by the fact that Celeborn and Ulysses were there, and also strange – if in a different way.

 

Them and the nightingales.

 

And, of course –

 

"You play too, Daeron. You can be the grandfather!"

 

"What!?"

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

 

Daemons introduced in this chapter include those of –

 

 

Luthien:              David, a superb lyrebird

Daeron:              Niobe, a common nightingale    

Celeborn:            Ulysses, an Indo-Chinese flying lizard – male

 

 

*~*~*

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know Thingol isn't exactly beloved of fandom, but I never really held anything too devastating in the Silm to be all or even mostly his fault, and upon re-reading the chapter about him and Melian have to say: that whole episode is bloody /creepy/!
> 
> So anyway, my head-canon for them is that Melian accidentally broke his brain with her demi-god powers, and spent all that time in the forest trying to figure out what an elf-brain was supposed to look like so she could heal him; in the end creating Luthien as a kind of template and from her coming back with something that was... /almost/ the Elwe that had been before. But not quite. '~'


End file.
